Merry New Year!!

I came really close to posting this again. I haven't had a new year since '84 where that wasn't the first thing I heard...

Thanks for joining me on the parenting journey this year. It's been a wild one...at this time last year, Bud wasn't even rolling over, and today, for the first time she said "I love you." I can't wait to see what '08 brings. Walking? Swimming? An enjoyable baseball season? (If I have to deal with the nonsense of '07's first-half and postseason, I may have to switch over to some other sport...) We shall see.

I leave you with a New Year's wish from a celebrity from whom we didn't hear so much this year...but who was the inspiration behind me purchasing my first camera phone (I saw her drunk at a restaurant once, and promised myself never to be without a camera again)...Tara Reid...MERRY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!

How is a daddy of a one-year-old like a GPS system fitted with Bluetooth?

We are both designed to accept simple voice commands.

Bud has crossed the line in verbal development where words go from identification: "mommy," "daddy," "chair," "binky," "Elmo" to orders. The other night we were doing the "night routine" when Bud orders "milk." "Milk, milk, milk!" So, I gave her some milk, she turns to me and says "Daddy! Up!" So, I pick her up. "Dans..." So, we dance. I put her down for her to drink more milk, and Bud declares "no, no, no!" "Up. Dans."

Other commands include: eat! binky! Elmo, Teddy, etc....as in, give me Elmo, Teddy, etc. And, of course, there are the food orders: cookie! pa-ta (pasta)! lini (tortellini)! poop (soup)!

The scariest word, of course, is "no." I've been warned about that...

WHEW!!

I liked the Simpsons Movie...what a relief! I don't need to be fitted for my Lifealert bracelet yet.

By the way- have you seen recent Lifealert commercials? Their slogan is actually "I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up!" (What the lady screams in the early-nineties commercial.)

That's almost as bad as NJ Transit's slogan: "We're all in this together." In other words "Yeah, I know it sucks, but we think it sucks too..."

What are you in for? Climbing into a drawer.

Last week, I think it was Thursday, Newmommy unleashed the long arm of the parental law and handed down Bud's first ever "punishment." She was given a one-minute "time-out," but was let out twenty seconds early for good behavior. For those of you who aren't familiar with "time-out," it's basically sitting in a corner until the clock runs out. It's sort of like being put in the penalty box in hockey, with about the same amount of teeth. No, we did not make her wear a dunce cap.

Bud received her punishment for climbing into the drawer in our coffee table, after she was told not to. She tried to do this again, and I really felt "parental" explaining that "people don't go in drawers, drawers are for books and clothes."

(See the new feature in the sidebar...I'm going to start adding quotes...)

Superbad Is

As a semi-new parent, I don't get to the movies very often. Because the frequency of my social life and I getting together has decreased since the birth of Bud, when I do get to go out, I prefer to "rock out" a bit more than sitting in a theater. So, today, I officially became the last person in the United States between the ages of 15 and 45 to see the movie "Superbad."

I wanted to like this movie. For one, everyone I knew who recommended it loved it, so not liking it would make me somewhat of an freak. Also, it's been a while since there was a movie in the same vein as "The Forty Year Old Virgin," "Wedding Crashers" and "Not Another Teen Movie," so I was really hoping to have another great comedy to put in the category.

I'm sorry, world. I just didn't get it. I was pretty bored. McLovin...OK, that's a good bit, but I just could not get into this movie.

True, I didn't like "Napoleon Dynamite" the first time I saw it either. I thought it was pretty stupid. But the next day, I saw myself quoting it, re-watched it, and was able to appreciate it for what it is. I doubt that will happen with this movie.

The problem is, for a guy who spent college addicted to the Simpsons, South Park, with the scripts to Fletch, Revenge of the Nerds and Happy Gilmore memorized, I am supposed to like this movie. And, that's what bothers me. Have I become old, and can no longer appreciate this type of humor? Am I now "out of the club?" Is Bud going to show me a movie she loves in a few years, and I just won't "get it?" Is it true, "Parents Just Don't Understand?"

And what the hell is "High School Musical" anyway; and who is Hannah Montana?

When Eric Cartman met the Thompsons, a lovely couple who had asses where their faces should have been (and could not eat chili because it made them throw up), Eric didn't think it was funny, and thought he blew a "funny fuse." Perhaps I did just that. Or, perhaps I have crossed an unwritten line...like when you begin to prefer VH1 over MTV.


I am really, really scared to watch the Simpsons Movie. If I don't like it, I can see the young side of me being really upset at me now...like some sort of twisted Shredded Wheat commercial.

More Fun With Google Analytics

Bud's sleeping, so let's take a look at some more exits on the information superhighway that lead you here...

1. "Diapers for a Bad Report Card." I'm no educator, but I believe there are other ways to get your kid's grades up.

2. "Medical Word of Shit." I pride myself on high quality, educational content.

3. "Toilet Humor." Ditto.

4. "My Milkshake Brings All the Little Boys to the Yard." Little boys? Which yard- remind me to avoid that one! (See also "What is a woman's milkshake?" Good question.)

5. "I blame the cavity creeps." We...make...holes in teeth.....we....make...holes in teeth.

Happy Hakaka

...as Bud would say. Pictured on the right is Bud's "nora." (It was an easy word for her because it rhymes with "Dora.")

P.S. I realize Hanukkah is over, but if Christmas can start in early November, surely I can post a Hanukkah post the day after the holiday ended.

Bud's First Sentence

"How are you?"

Bud uttered her first sentence today. I don't think she was actually asking me how I was, but merely repeating what Newmommy says when she picks up Bud's play-phone: "Hello? Hi! How are you? Good..." Until now, she made it only through the second word. Now, I have a true conversationalist.

I had hopes for her first sentence...something like "Daddy, I've already made some $200k in the market, no need to save for my college education," or "What the hell do you mean Joe Torre isn't coming back next year?" or even "I'll have the spicy maki combo." Oh well, I'll take what I can get.

While with Newmommy's parents over the weekend, she was given a bowl of soup. When Newnana tried to take it away from her, she protested...although she didn't get the word quite right...."Poop! Poop!" Soup/poop, close enough.

Taking the World By Land and Sea

Wait...did I just quote "The Breakup?" Yeah, it's a chick flick, but it's got some funny bits- so BACK OFF!!

I think it's amazing that in the course of four days, Bud began learning to both walk and swim.

First, walking. Over the weekend she, for the first time, allowed us to hold her hands while she walked with our support. When they say in the various credit card commercials "Your Baby's First Step," do they mean assisted or unassisted? In any event, I can hear Five for Fighting in the background..."I'm fifteen for a moment..."

Second, swimming. We began lessons on Sunday. Technically, it's a "Mommy and Me", but there were no mommys in the pool...this is definitely a daddy thing. She seemed to like it...I'm not sure if she was kicking because she was swimming, or because she kicks all the time. Again, I'm not sure what the Official Child Milestone book considers swimming, so I'm going to score it as a "yes."

Next week, I'm going to teach her how to convert a 7-10 split.

Gotta Watch Out for those Pumas

I had drinks a few nights ago with a bunch of fellow Jerseyites, all of whom have three- or four-year-olds. One of the fathers told me that, every night, he has to "check" to make sure that his daughter's room is clear of all of the things she's afraid of...

"Did you check for monsters?", she asks.

"Yes, I did," replies daddy.

"What about ghosts?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"What about pumas?," she asks.

"Pumas? Where did you hear about pumas?", asks the father.

"Diego."

Friggin' Diego...scaring kids like that. I didn't realize that pumas were indigenous to this area of New Jersey! I wish I knew that before I moved here. It wasn't in the brochure.

That's about as likely as me playing by someone else's rules besides my own. Which I would never do. I play by my own rules..

"...nobody else's...not even my own."

When I started this blog, I had a couple of guidelines for myself. First, I wouldn't turn this into a mushy, lovey-dovey, "look-my-kid-spit-up" minute-by-minute update on Bud's life.

Second, I was only going to post when I had something to write about. I wasn't going to do this every day, every other day, etc...I was only going to speak when I had something to say.

And that's why your humble narrator has been MIA this month...aside from the vacation situation and the thanksgiving stuff, the only thing I have to report is a laundry list of really cute things that my daughter has done. But you probably don't want to hear that...

Well, too bad...I'm breaking my rules today. I'm a rebel, my friends:

• Every morning, the first thing she says to Newmommy and me is "Binky." But, with one in her mouth so it sounds more like "Biikii." And, aside from the one in her mouth, she's got one in each hand. Multitasking at such a young age...
• She knows what animals say: pig, horse, dog, sheep, cow, cat, and my favorite...monkey. See tickles herself and goes "ooo, ooo."
  
• She hasn't quite gotten "rooster": cock-a-doo-loo.
• She's not counting, nor does she know the alphabet yet, but she's started in the middle: she knows the number three and the letter "P." One, two....three!!
• Ask her a "who is the .... in the world ?" question and she's say, "MEEE!" (In fact, I sang her the "Wally World National Anthem," and when I got to "Who's the star of our favorite show?" she replied, "MEEE!!"
• She rocks out...when she hears a song she likes, she'll get on her knees, throw her hands in the air, and bounce up and down. Rock on.
• She brushes her teeth. It's never too early to begin good oral hygiene habits, folks.
  

That's enough for now. Sorry for the lame month of posting, everyone. Hopefully, in December, I'll be able to b-ring it. (It's already been b-rought-ed).

I.O.L. in Every Room

Bud has mastered a skill: turning lights on and off. We hold her up to a light switch and she flicks on the light, proudly declaring, in an almost biblical way "liiiight!" And, then she turns the light off. And, in true fourteen-month-old fashion, she repeats the exercise about ten times until we pull her away.

(And, yes, I quoted "Arthur II: On the Rocks" for this post. For those of you who did not have HBO throughout the nineties...IOL stands for "Instant On Lighting.")

I will forgo the "enjoy your turkey sandwich/leftovers" jokes, but will relay a funny story from last night's dinner. Grandma brought Bud an Elmo cupcake for dessert, which she managed to get all over her clothing, hair, face, the floor, etc. We all watched and laughed. (Far be it from us to focus on anything other than Bud during a family function!) Newaunt says, "this is the best entertainment ever!" Bud looks up, pats herself on the chest with both hands and yells "MEEEEEE!!!!" Exactly.

Whateva!!

It's been a while since I posted a "cute kid video." Not sure if this is cute or annoying...you be the judge!



P.S. Bud's now cruising...she'll pull herself up on a piece of furniture, and walk across the side using the furniture as support. I imagine walking is any day now...

Language Lessons

Monique: "...instead he uses it as a chance to put his testicles all over me."
Lane Meyer: "TENTACLES...N, T....there's a big difference."

- From "Better Off Dead"

Bud has quite the vocabulary, with such new words as "ball," "open," and "car." (Not to mention "Laurie", as in Laurie Berkner.) Bud's words generally come in two categories: words that are clearly the word she's trying to say (like "key" and "dada"), and those which are close and consistent (such as "pa-peh" for pancake and "ba-bay-bee" for strawberry). Her newest one, however, is DVD, which she loving calls a "VD." It's going to be a while before she appreciates the difference, and I wonder if, by the time she learns what VD actually means, DVDs will even be around. "VD!" "VD!" No, really, you don't want that.

Reunited (and it feels so good)

Newnana and Newgrampy pull up to our house at about 10:30am with Bud in the car. After not seeing her for about six days now, Newmommy and I run down the stairs, trying to get an edge on the other so we could see her first. It was like being on a second-grade lunch line. We had obviously not seen the grandparents either, but we nearly knocked them over on our way to see Bud. (Out of my way, whoever you are...)

Bud looks different. She's grown so much in a week. She also looks congested and uncomfortable. But, she looks at me and says "dada." No, she did not forget about me! Woohoo.

The next week was difficult, and the reason, we ultimately found out, was that she had Roseola. Which is like penne except longer something kids get, which starts as a +103 fever, and ends with a body rash. Finding out that news actually put us a ease, as its a common sickness that goes away, but until we found out what it was, Bud just wasn't herself. Yes, she was sick. Yes, we were in a new house. Yes, we had been gone and now we're back and she's probably confused. Lots was going on. Yet, it was hard not to think that we somehow upset her, and she was holding it against us.

Luckily, as soon as the rash went away, she was back to smiles, strawberries and her obsession with Laurie Berkner.

Vacation Days 4 & 5: Sick & Sicker

Vacation Day 4 was more of the same: chillaxin' in the sun with the occasional (ok, more than just 'occasional') Belashi...which is Aruban for beer. (Apparently, they don't have a website, and apparently "Belashi" is also a town in Kazakhstan. Yegshemesh!)

Vacation Night 4 was game four of the MLB World Series. I don't need to recap the tragic events, but lets just say the eight inning marked a true low for Yankees fans. As we were watching the giant World Series foot heading in slow motion toward our collective left nut, A-Rob/Scott Boras gave us a quick shot to the right one. We're going to need an icepack the size of the Bronx to get us through the very, very long winter.

And then, on day five, we got the real bad news: Bud has a fever. (Yes, I do have some perspective). We found out in the early evening and were set to fly home the next day, so an earlier flight would not have made much of a difference. Still, we were in Aruba and wanted nothing more than to hop a flight and take care of Bud. We both felt trapped. What's more, we've been, so far, really lucky, and Bud has not yet had a fever...and this one topped 103, so needless to say, we really wanted to get home.

The flights from Aruba to Newark (via San Juan) are somewhere around 5 hours total; but it felt like a week. The last time I was on a Caribbean flight that felt that long, it was because the movie was "Rumor Has It." Ugghh....

Vacation Days 2 & 3: What I Did on Bud-cation

"I did absolutely nothing, and it was everything I thought it could be." - Peter Gibbons, Office Space

Not exactly, although I did log quite a few hours sitting on the beach drinking fruity umbrella drinks and chasing invisible penguins. Not, wait, scratch the penguins, although I did have a few "Aruba Arribas" while reading "The Year of Living Biblically" by A.J. Jacobs, a self-described Jew who is as Jewish as "the Olive Garden is an Italian Restaurant." The author spends a year living the bible as literally as possible: it's a good read, and I liked it especially for the daddying stories.

I also embarked on a jeep tour of Aruba. Newmommy and I rented a jeep and caravaned with a group around the island. Behold: one of the less than 2% of pics on my hard drive that does not include Bud or a pregnant Newmommy (and, I realize I am breaking the promise that I would not "post pictures from my off-road jeep tour"...well, too bad...also, I realize there IS a road in this picture...it was the beginning part of the tour):

Of course, our battery died and we needed a new jeep. And the "Natural Bridge," one of the major sights of the island, collapsed two years ago. And, we lost the Brazilian family about halfway through (which, according to our tour guide was typical of Brazilian tourists to Aruba- go figure).

What else did I do...hmm, let's see...aside from getting kicked in the jewels in the casino? I watched some crappy baseball game.

All in all, it was a fun time. And, the reports from Bud: she was laughing, smiling, eating ice cream, going on carousels...I was beginning to worry that she was having so much fun with the Grandparents Committee that she would want nothing of Newmommy and I!

Vacation Day 1: Why you goin' to the airport? Flying Somewhere?

As promised:

We woke up at 5am to make our way to Newark Airport. Already, I am feeling anxious and questioning whether or not going on this trip is a good idea. This I think was brought on not only because we were going without Bud, but also because we were simply getting on a plane. See, sometime around 1999/2000, I developed a fear of flying. It didn't make sense, as I was a pretty regular flier averaging about 4-10 flights per year since my freshman year of high school. One day, it just came on. It wasn't so much of a fear that would keep me from my normal routine and planned trips, more of a dread that had me preoccupied for days prior to a flight. A trip to Europe in August of 2001 almost managed to break that fear; unfortunately my return flight on September 11 from London was turned around halfway across the Atlantic. That managed to set me back. It wasn't until a trip to Vegas for a bachelor party two years later that I realized I was pretty much over the fear.

While reading various 'fear of flying' books to help me understand why suddenly and for no apparent reason this fear developed, I came across a passage that suggested that new parents often develop fears of flying because they fear what consequences may befall their child should something go wrong on their flight. (That, of course, didn't answer my question, as I was not even married at the time, let alone a father). Although I didn't welcome back the full fear that I carried with me years ago, that thought definitely stayed with me until we touched down safely in Aruba.

Weed helped. More, accurately, I should say "Weeds" (the television show) helped; the first season of which I downloaded onto my iPod for the trip, at the suggestion of many. You were all correct: it's a great show. [Insert your best "Bud" pun here.]

Before dinner that evening we did our "call-in" at Newnana & Newgrampy's, who took the first babysitting shift. Bud got on the phone with a big "Da Da Da!" She didn't forget me. Yet.

Newmommy and I hit a sushi bar for dinner, and we ran into someone with whom I went to high school (although I don't remember him -- nor did he remember me.) Of course, he was with his wife and his eleven-month-old. Fantastic, these people found a way to bring their child on their trip, why couldn't I?

On the bright side: we had a great meal, and a fun night out without worrying about bathtimes, bedtimes or babysitters. Plus, I got some much-needed time alone with Newmommy. On the downside: well, I'm still missing my little girl, and battling the bad-father complex. And, on the really downside, the Red Sox just went ahead 2-0.

Bad Parenting: Me?

I neglected to mention in my previous posts that at the conclusion of our move, Newmommy and I went away for four days to Aruba to celebrate our wedding anniversary. It was a long-planned vacation that just ended up coinciding with our house closing.

It was also the first time we were away from Bud for that long. We had previous done one- and two-night getaways, but never a true leave-the-country vacation. So, naturally, as the months and weeks lead up to our departure, the question of whether or not this was "Bad Parenting" hit me pretty hard.

Very few people I know have left a less-than-two-year-old for five nights; but then again, Newmommy and I are in a unique position of having two local and extremely willing sets of babysitter-grandparents (not to mention a local aunt), so perhaps the trend is not a good indicator of whether or not I'm just a bad parent. What did bother me was the look on Bud's face when Newmommy and I came back from our first weekend away from her: the blank "I don't know you" stare. Heartbreaking. And the vision repeated on me while I determined whether or not to go. Still, I thought, that took no more than a few hours to fade away.

I managed to convince myself that going away was the right thing to do. Not only did it give me the opportunity to spend five days alone with Newmommy (which we hadn't done since September 2006, and even longer if you count little miss Kicky McKickstein in Newmommy's belly...), it gave Bud the opportunity to develop relationships with her grandparents without me and my wife hovering and criticizing their baby-tending abilities. Plus, it develops trust...Bud may get upset that mommy and daddy leave, but at least she'll understand that we come back. It also helps her develop some independence.

All good arguments which didn't do much for me dreading leaving my little girl. That's not to say I didn't have a good time...I definitely enjoyed (and needed) the time with my other girl. It's just hard not to think that, despite all of my PhD-level child psychology arguments, I'm not a bad dad for leaving my little girl for almost a week.

So, we will see how she reacts tomorrow morning, when Newnana and Newgrampy return with the princess. And, over the next few days, I will give you an even more in-depth look at Newdaddy's vacation. Don't worry...I am not posting my pictures from the off-road jeep tour; just focusing on the daddying topics.

(P.S. Another added bonus of the Aruba vacation was to be out of the country and, what I thought, out of the reach of major league baseball, during a time that I had a sneaking suspicion would not be good for the Yanks. Boy, was I wrong. If I didn't know better, I would have thought that our hotel was hosting an over-fifty-Red Sox fan retreat.)

DJ Newdaddy (or, Newdaddy Takes Requests)

Yes, I realize that I've used this title before. Originality: zero.

Parents of thirteen month-olds need to take on many jobs: doctor, psychologist, safety monitor (although I don't think you can get a degree in that), teacher. I never thought "disk jockey" would be on that list, but apparently it is.

Bud loves "Twinkle, Twinkle" and "The Itsy Bitsy Spider." Whenever she wants us to sing the song, she'll do the hand motion. For those of you who were not born in the teach-kids-sign language age, the hand motion to Twinkle is opening and closing your hands. Or, at least I am assuming that is an accepted sign, because I didn't teach Bud that, and I don't think Newmommy did either. Nor the "Itsy Bitsy Spider." Yet, whenever she does the hand motion, and we respond with the appropriate song, she laughs with delight. Nice.

It's getting a bit repetitive. Bud makes the sign, I sing the song, Bud laughs, claps, and then repeats the hand motion. So, the song is sung over and over and over. Of course, I'm not one to talk about repetition: I've seen "Fletch" probably over one hundred times. "Cavanaugh? Is that Morris or Pierre?"

Oh, and she learned how to turn on the TV today. I don't know if that's good or bad. She crawled to the TV, stood up holding the entertainment unit, and hit the power button. At least she knows that the remote is not a toy for girls!

'Cause We're the Griswalds!!

I am officially a suburbanite.

For those of you who don't know Jersey and only picture one giant suburb plus Newark, you've probably already pegged me as a suburbanite. However, my former home was so close to Manhattan on the Jersey side, that I was almost as much of a New Yorker as a resident of the outer bouroughs. No, I could not order Malaysian food at 3am as I was able to (and did) back in my Manhattan days, but my commute to midtown was under an hour. No more.

I am now sitting in my new home office in my new home deep in suburban New Jersey. Let me give you a taste: our closing was Thursday afternoon. Last night (Friday), our next door neighbors officially welcomed us to the neighborhood with an apple pie. That just does not happen in Manhattan.

Bud's been pretty confused, although I think she's starting to get comfortable. Her room looks almost the same as her old room; but I'm sure she notices the different sounds, smells and feels of the new house. Also, Newmommy and I, taking poor advice from a professional babyproofer (more on that to come...) removed the bumpers from Bud's crib, making her first night in a strange place even more difficult. The bumpers are back in. She's looking around a lot, she seems very interested in her surroundings and, with the added space of the new house, we're able to designate a playroom for her, which she's beginning to take to.

Oh, and we're now a two-car family, with the second car being an (ugh...) SUV. It's really Newmommy's car. Nevertheless, I think there's now no doubt that I am a true suburbanite having the ol' Family Truckster. (Don't worry, I did not get it in metallic pea.)

My Kid's Cuter Than Your Kid

Parents: does everyone think that their kid is genuinely unique and cuter than every other kid out there? I think that about Bud, but I'm sure every parent feels this way. But Bud is really, really cute. Check this out:

• Yesterday, she was crying at the playground, so to calm her down I gave her my keys. She immediately got a huge smile on her face, and, for the next fifteen minutes, talked (babbled) to the keys and repeated "keeeeeeyyyyyy."
• She also started saying "me" this week. Actually it's more like "me, me, me." I said, "who has the best daddy in the world?" She responded, "me, me, me!" How could you NOT love that?
• She's a little scared of her "Baby Tad," this frog that sings songs. But, she loves the songs (and, in the age of "Music Together" and the Laurie Berkner Band, I'm glad they are the classics..."Itsy, Bitsy Spider" and "Twinkle, Twinkle.") Whenever I play the songs, she laughs, and climbs into my lap. (She also knows the hand motions to those songs...I didn't teach her, Newmommy didn't teach her....where the hell did she learn them?)
• Right now, she is on the baby monitor calling to me to play: "Dada! Dada!" Go to sleep! (But, it's so damn cute.)

As I read this, I realize there is nothing highly unusual or un-thirteen-months-old-ish on here, but, I really do think she's the cutest kid in the world. I know it can't really be true, but, at the same time, I really think it is.

OK, enough with the puppydogs and ice cream.

The move is this week, and as soon as I hit "Publish Post" and watch this stupid video (to which, for some reason, I am addicted) one more time (yes, it's stupid...but, as the person who sent it to me said- watch it twice through), I am going to unplug my computer and pack it up. That means no posting until the weekend. Ohhh nooo!!

And Now Back to your Regularly Scheduled Blog

And, just like that, the baseball season is over. All I can say about the 2007 ALDS is: Ow My Balls! Well, in the immortal words of the Dalai Lama, right after losing his golfball into a ten-thousand foot crevasse, "Goonga L'goonga."

We now return to your regularly scheduled blog.

Sunday Morning Potpourri

I hear the criticisms that lately I have turned the focus of this blog away from daddying and towards the recent sporting tournament that has been going on. So, for those who need their fill of parenting thoughts, here you go:

• Nothing is gradual. Non-parents sometimes make fun of those parents who follow their kid around with a camera all the time. The reason they do that is, for at least the first thirteen months of a kid's life, a major breakthrough can happen at any minute. For the longest time, Bud did not crawl. Then, within the course of less than two months, she crawled, speed-crawled, stood and climbed up the stairs!
  
• Word of the Day: Key. Whenever Bud sees a key, she says "Keeeeey."
  
• You know your life is over when...it's 8:55am on a Sunday, you've already had breakfast, and you're on your way to Home Depot to buy towel rods. We may go to Bed, Bath and Beyond later, I don't know if we'll have enough time...

An Open Letter

To Johnny Damon (1 for 9), Derek Jeter (1 for 8), Robinson Cano (1 for 7), Hideki Matsui (0 for 7), Jorge Posada (0 for 7) and A-Rod (0 for 6):

Visit Beautiful Cleveland

Sour grapes? You betcha! Two games in a row we got the ol' Cleveland steamroll...

When is a Baby not a Baby? When she's a Toddler

Yesterday I asked, "at what point is [Bud] no longer "Baby Bud" and "Little Girl Bud?" (In retrospect, I realize that the grammar is incorrect, but how many English teachers out there are reading this?) The question is: when does a baby become a not-baby?

Today, I got my answer from my weekly e-mail from Babycenter, which was titled, for the first time "Your Toddler This Week." Previously, it was "Your Baby This Week."

And, as we know, the internets is never wrong.

So, there you have it. Bud is a toddler. And I am old.

When is a Baby not a Baby?

As I watched my almost-thirteen-month-old climb up a set of stairs today (which she did for the first time while I was at work), I was struck by how non-baby like she is. She's got a full head of hair with curls in the back, she was wearing jeans, she is really communicating with us...at what point is she no longer "Baby Bud" and "Little Girl Bud?"

Some thoughts, none of which I really like:

• When she walks
• When she speaks sentences. (Or, when she asks a question)
• When she says 'no'
• When she releases her first album
• When she is 1 (or 2, or some other chronological milestone)
• When she starts school

Any thoughts? (And, if she is no longer "Baby Bud", is it fair for me to still be "Newdaddy"?)

Oh, and when is a Yankee Fan not a Yankee Fan? Tonight? Here's my question: who do you root for in the Red Sox - Angels series? With the terrible track record (not to mention post-season track record) the Yankees have against the Angels, we'd probably rather see Boston next week than L.A. Also, if the Yankees and Red Sox meet up in the ALCS, we can avenge the tragic events of 2004.

On the other hand, what self-respecting Yankee Fan roots for the Red Sox under any circumstances? Plus, and I hate myself for saying this, what if the ALCS is New York/Boston, and it turns into a trainwreck-a-la-'04? Yikes.

Finally, and I'll write more about this in the coming weeks, the Newfamily is moving! The move is going to be in a few weeks. Don't worry Garden State, we're staying within the Jersey borders...however, Bud and her accessories take up a tremendous amount of space...and we need space.

I Gave My Love a Cherry...

Bud is very much into her "Music Together" class. The songs are oddly addictive. Prior to each session, participants are given a CD of that session's music selections. A first pass through the CD is fairly annoying, especially knowing that CD will be pretty much the only thing played in your car for the next three months. However, by the inevitable twenty-fifth time through, your musical sense will have turned into something similar to that of a one-year-old, and you'll see the CD much in the same way I saw "Paul's Boutique" my sophomore year of college. That, and, kids love the music...Bud immediately calms when the CD goes on, claps when her favorite songs end, and "demands" we sing them during feeding times.

The lyrics of some of the songs are a bit strange. For example:

Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been?/
I've been to London to visit the queen./
Pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you there?/
I frightened a mouse from under her chair.

Don't get it. You would think Buckingham Palace would have pretty decent exterminators, no?

We got the new CD yesterday. Have you ever had a hysterical moment that no one is around to appreciate? I'm in the car with Bud, and all of a sudden "The Riddle Song" comes on!! I nearly lost it. You've heard the Riddle Song, but probably don't know it by name. It goes a little something like this...